Trouble Comes in Threes I
by mariposa1
Summary: What happens when you put an arrogant lawyer/jet-jock together with three kids, a dog, and a marine who thinks he deserves everything he's got coming.


Name: TROUBLE COMES IN THREES 1/3?  
  
Author name: Mariposa   
  
Feedback: mailto:mariposapapillon@earthlink.net  
  
Send feed back. Please. Pretty please. With sugar on it please. Lots and lots of feedback please. Artists need encouragement.  
  
Rating: G   
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be, so lighten up and enjoy.  
  
Summery: What happens when you put an arrogant lawyer/jet-jock together with three kids, a dog, and a marine who thinks he deserves everything he's got coming.  
  
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TROUBLE COMES IN THREES - CHAPTER 1  
  
*****  
  
THURSDAY  
  
0500 ZULU (2300 LOCAL)  
  
NORTH OF UNION STATION  
  
WASHINGTON, DC  
  
The phone call came just after Harm had fallen asleep. "Rabb."  
  
"Remember when you said if I ever needed anything just yell for help. HELP!"  
  
Harm's feet hit the floor and he was already reaching for his clothes, "Gwen?   
  
What's wrong? Where are you?"  
  
"Stand down Commander, that's an order," Gwen laughed. "I have a problem, but the world's not coming to an end."  
  
Harm shook his head. Gwen, better known as Ice or Bones to the 8th Air Wing, had a strange sense of humor but she wouldn't call him in this late at night if something wasn't wrong. "What's up?"  
  
"Anything that isn't down?"  
  
"How is it that the Admiral hasn't strangled you yet?"  
  
"He likes me. Anyway he hates sleeping alone." The admiral being referred to was the one-star that Gwen had been married to for thirteen years, an ex SEAL that now ran a NIA section at the Pentagon.  
  
"Gwen!"  
  
"Seriously, I'm in a jam. The senior medical officer on the Truman decided to have an argument with a ladder - he lost. They need a replacement ASAP and guess who got volunteered? I need to be at Andrews at zero one hundred hours."  
  
"What did you do to piss the SECNAV off this time?"  
  
"I didn't DO anything. We're short on flight surgeons. You know that. We're always short on flight surgeons. And we're at war in case you forgot."  
  
"GWEN! Two hours! What's the rush?"  
  
"Harm, we're on an open line. Anyway I haven't been told anything other that to have my six at Andrews in two hours for deployment to the Arabian Sea."  
  
"So what's the problem? Need a ride?"  
  
"Damn, I hadn't gotten that far..."  
  
"Gwen..."  
  
"The Admiral is in Naples. Don't ask, I don't know. And I'll bet you your wings he's not really in Naples. That's just where they're telling me he is."  
  
"Still calling him Admiral, huh?"  
  
"Yeah, I even salute him now and again."  
  
"Ouch! He must just love that."  
  
"Especially when I tell him what he can go and do with his direct orders. Anyway   
  
I tried to get a hold of AJ but..."  
  
"But he's at Pearl holding a conference to clear up some ROE issues with the other JAG units. Why would you need the Admiral? One's not enough for you?" Harmed teased. He hoped to have a marriage as good as hers someday. Hopefully with a certain marine lieutenant colonel if they could ever get on the same page at the same time.  
  
"AJ is the boys' godfather. He's been their guardian when we've both been deployed."  
  
"The boys!" Harm sat down suddenly on the bed and swallowed hard. He had a sneaking suspicion where this conversation was heading. Gwen and her admiral had four children: a twenty-one-year-old daughter from his first marriage, now at Annapolis, and a set of triplets, identical boys age twelve. They were good kids. But they were boys. And they were twelve. He remembered being twelve. He made his stepfather miserable when he was twelve.  
  
"I was hoping you could fill in until AJ gets back."   
  
Gwen just shut up and waited. She and Harm had known each other since his plebe year, when she had been a first at Annapolis. They became friends in flight school. They were assigned to the same fighter squadron. She was his first flight surgeon. When he returned to JAG after regaining his flight status he was assigned to her again. She WAS NOT his flight surgeon for the cruise when he had his ramp strike. She still wanted to get her hands on that bozo. Signing a waiver without an initial exam...  
  
She heard Harm take a deep breath. "O.K. I'll be there in thirty. Do you have the forms?"  
  
"All filled out. Just need to be signed."  
  
"And you still need a ride to Andrews, right?"  
  
"Yeah, I'd rather not leave the toy out there for the duration." The toy was a British racing green Boxster. "I'll leave you the keys if you promise to play nice."  
  
Flashing his trademark grin he replied, "I promise."  
  
"I'm immune to that smile, remember."  
  
"How'd you know I was smiling."  
  
"I can hear it."  
  
"Yeah, well, umm. See you in thirty."  
  
*****  
  
FRIDAY  
  
1500 ZULU (0900 LOCAL)  
  
JAG HEADQUARTERS  
  
FALLS CHURCH, VA  
  
Harm had survived breakfast and gotten the boys off to school and himself to the office with time to spare. He even enjoyed the commute. The Boxster was fun to drive even in Beltway traffic.   
  
Actually the boys were cooperating. Gwen had laid down the law before leaving. On the way to Andrews Harm asked if there really was such a thing as a Jesuit military boarding school. She said she didn't know for sure but there ought to be one somewhere. Harm decided he really needed to call his stepfather and thank him for putting up with him for all these years.  
  
The boys were pretty self-sufficient, mostly requiring general supervision. They had changed quite a bit in the six months since he had last seen them. Harm could tell the three of them apart. He just couldn't attach the right name to the right kid. He'd called Tommy Jonny and Jonny Robby and poor Robby got called Tommy and Jonny. The dog, an oversized Great Dane, was easy. His name was Horatio, as in Hornblower.   
  
Gwen had left detailed instructions and a schedule of activities on the fridge. There was nothing on for tonight, but there was a soccer game Saturday morning. At least they all played on the same team. Mass was Sunday mornings at St. Bartholomew's. Piano lessons were Tuesday evenings. Confession was Wednesday afternoons after catechism class. Boy scouts was on Thursday nights. 'This was going to be a piece of cake,' Harm thought.  
  
"You got here early Flyboy," Mac greeted him leaning against the door jam of Harm's office.  
  
"Good morning Mac," Harm smiled. "Amazing what a little organization will do, isn't it?"  
  
"You? Organized? Chair slip out from underneath you again?" Harm just laughed.  
  
"Enough chitchat people. Let's get some work done around here." Sturgis, who was acting JAG while the admiral was gone, winked at Mac as he folded his arms over his chest trying to pull off an admiral impersonation. "Harm, how is it you're here on time? Trying to make me look good?"  
  
That just made Harm laugh harder. "Actually I just wasn't sure how long it would take me to get here from Bethesda."  
  
"What were you doing at Bethesda? You okay buddy?" Sturgis asked.  
  
Mac's golden skin took on a ghastly shade of green as she started to look Harm over carefully. Maybe he really had hit his head or something. God knows you could only bang on his skull for so long before there was some sort of permanent damage.  
  
"The city, not the hospital. I was out at Gwen's."  
  
Sturgis just smiled as memories of Annapolis flashed through his head.  
  
Mac looked back and forth between Sturgis and Harm. They were both grinning like idiots. Somehow Mac didn't think she was going to like this one bit. "Let me guess, Gwen is a tall leggy dumb blonde bim..."  
  
Sturgis interrupted her, "Careful Mac that's a superior officer you're about to disparage. She got her eagles not to long ago. Anyway she's light-years away from being dumb, not blonde, and definitely not tall. What would you say Harm, about five four?"  
  
Harm took a long look at Mac. They never quite got around to having that talk. This could work out really well. "If that. She's a brunette. And she was third in her class at Annapolis, first in flight school, and I think second in med school. She's one of the rarest birds in the whole Navy Mac: an aero-medical dual-designate. As for being leggy, I don't know. She's tiny but I bet she's more than half leg. What do you think Sturgis?"  
  
Harm was playing a dangerous game here and Sturgis wasn't sure he wanted in. What ever was going on he knew it wasn't what Mac was thinking. "I think that the Captian is a very beautiful and extraordinary woman. Actually I think you'd like her Mac. Is everything okay with her?" Sturgis asked turning back to Harm.   
  
"Yeah she's fine. But she had to ship out on short notice last night." Harm filled Sturgis in on all the particulars, while sneaking glances at Mac. "Anyway I'll be taking care of the boys until one of the admirals gets back."  
  
"You? Taking care of three boys?" Mac was incredulous. "She must be out of her mind."  
  
"Well she's always saying that being three-quarters crazy is a prerequisite for being a naval aviator." Harm replied trying not to smirk, smiled at her instead. "I can handle it. They're good kids. How hard can it be?"  
  
Mac just stared at him. She then slowly smiled. A beautiful smile. Her eyes twinkled. That smile nailed Harm right between the solar plexus. "Oh, real easy I'm sure. You won't have a bit of trouble. Preteens are SO easy to deal with."  
  
Harm blinked first. Mac had experience with a preteen - Chloe. But the boys were, well, boys. Nah, this was going to be a piece of cake.   
  
*****  
  
FRIDAY EVENING  
  
0400 ZULU (2200 LOCAL)  
  
NEAR BETHESDA NAVAL HOSPITAL  
  
BETHESDA, MARYLAND  
  
They did it. In less than twenty-four hours they had sunk him. He had been outnumbered, outgunned, outflanked and out maneuvered by three twelve-year-olds.  
  
It started with dinner. The kitchen was a gourmet's dream - Sub-Zero refrigerator, freezer, walk-in pantry, all fully stocked; six-burner restaurant quality stove with two ovens and a grill; stainless steel dishwasher; granite counter tops with a built-in butcher block; and every pot, pan and kitchen gadget imaginable. The funny thing was that Gwen couldn't boil water without burning it.   
  
Harm couldn't wait to play with all the goodies. The grilled salmon and vegetables with rice pilaf came out perfect. The boys even helped prepare the meal.   
  
Then the first shoe fell. "Uh, Harm," Tommy said as he started to scratch his arm. "I forgot. Salmon gives me hives." This after dinner was on the table. This after Tommy had eaten half his dinner. This after Robby and Jonny had eaten half their dinners. This after the first red splotch appeared on Jonny's face.  
  
Thank God for speed dial. Doctor was number one. Harm was pretty sure number one got dialed a lot around here. The pediatrician turned out to be one Lieutenant Commander Jeanie Lawson who was very familiar with the boys' antics. The prescription: Benadryl, oatmeal baths, and calamine lotion. She jokingly asked Harm if he'd like a sedative.  
  
Benadryl either puts people to sleep or winds them up. One guess what it did to the boys. Within fifteen minutes of them finishing their baths there was a fierce game of Nurf football going on in the great room. Three boys can easily turn a couch on to its back, not to mention what they could do to two chairs and a lamp. Harm was really glad that the bookcases were bolted to the walls. He hoped that the lamp could be repaired. By the time all the glass had been vacuumed up and the furniture righted, the boys were all complaining they were hungry. Harm wasn't taking any chances this time. He was going to be asking "Are you allergic to...?" before he gave them so much as a soda cracker.  
  
After a quick call to Dr. Lawson ("Please call me Jeanie"), Harm began to make his favorite sick day food: melted cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Of course there wasn't a bag of bread, instead there was a fresh loaf of crusty French sourdough. Harm sliced the bagget into half-inch thick slices and started to toast them on the grill. Instead of American cheese wrapped in plastic Harm selected one of the blocks of sharp cheddar and shredded it using the food processor. Once the bread was toasted he piled the cheese onto the slices and popped them in the oven so the cheese would melt. Several cans of tomato soup were in the pantry, not condensed soup, but a gourmet brand seasoned with basil.  
  
While the soup was heating, he started to get plates and bowls out of the cabinets. That's when he first heard the high pitched whine of electric motors. A bright yellow radio-controlled VW Beetle came speeding across the kitchen floor only to crash into the refrigerator. Tommy charged in from the great room in his stocking feet, sliding around the corner like a pro driver at the Indy 500. Close on his heels Robby raced in after a dark purple PT Cruiser. As Tommy tried to back up his Beetle Robby tried to trap it in the corner.   
  
"Jonny come on I need help," Robby screeched. "He's going to escape!"  
  
A fiery red Viper appeared followed by Jonny. Assessing the battlefield, Jonny came up with a plan that would make his father proud. He decided on a different angle of attack, right between the kitchen island and the cabinets. Unfortunately Harm was standing between Jonny and his quarry.   
  
As Harm backed away from the cabinets with the dishes, the Viper sped beneath his feet. While he didn't actually step on the car, it was a near thing. Near enough to throw off a jet-jock's excellent sense of balance. His arms began to cartwheel. Dishes went flying in the air. The Viper ricocheted against the cabinets and smashed into the refrigerator. Harm's six landed on the floor, though his head made a detour against the island counter top.   
  
It wasn't the first time he had seen stars, but he sure hoped it would be the last. The boys were immediately beside him asking all at once if he was okay and should they call Dr. Jeanie and did he need stitches and was anything broken and... Horatio ambled into the room, sat down and started to lick Harm's face. Harm wished he would just pass out.  
  
"Hey! Is something burning?" Tommy sniffed the air just as the smoke alarm went off.  
  
"The sandwiches!" Harm yelled as he dove towards the oven and went to yank the tray out. Unfortunately he didn't put oven mitts on first so he dropped the tray as he burnt his hands. The sandwiches flew across the floor. A little too brown for human consumption, but Horatio wasn't that picky. After all in a dog's world anything on the floor is fair game. And of course this was the moment the soup started to boil over.  
  
Harm surveyed the disaster area. Soup, sandwiches, plates, bowls, and blood from a small cut on his head (why did head wounds always bleed so much) littered the kitchen floor. The smoke alarm continued to blare. Horatio began to howl in accompaniment between bites of bread and burnt cheese. That's when Harm heard the claxon of the fire trucks. Apparently the smoke detector signaled the fire department automatically.  
  
The paramedics thought Harm would survive. Harm was beginning to wonder. Stitches weren't required for the gash on his head. The EMTs cleaned him up and applied a couple of steri-strips. The burns on his hands were minor. A little ointment and he was good to go.   
  
Surrendering to the inevitable Harm called out for pizza - one cheese-lovers, one pepperoni. Returning to the kitchen, Harm began to bring order to the chaos. As he was cleaning up the last of the mess on the stove, the boys came traipsing through the kitchen each carrying a bundle of clothing.  
  
"Soccer uniforms need washed," Robby or maybe it was Tommy announced.  
  
"Do you need any help?" Harm asked.  
  
"Nah, we do it all the time. Cold wash, cold rinse. Mom says we get 'em dirty, we clean 'em up." Unbeknownst to Harm the boys had decided to make up for all the trouble they had caused.   
  
An hour later having polished off both pizzas and a two-liter of soda Harm announced it was bedtime. He received the requisite moaning and groaning expected from twelve-year-olds. The excuses came fast and furiously and Harm seriously considered using his command voice. Finally everyone settled down, teeth were brushed, goodnights said, and the under-age crowd was in bed.  
  
Harm was contemplating what he was going to do with the rest of the evening when Jonny reappeared.  
  
"I thought I told you to go to bed," Harm said in a take no prisoners voice.  
  
Jonny came to immediate attention, "Yes Sir. You did Sir." Harm tried to repress a smile. The kid would make it through boot camp just fine. "The laundry is still in the washer Sir. We need our uniforms first thing in the morning Sir."  
  
"Okay, I'll take care of it. Back to bed. Now Seaman!"  
  
"Aye aye Sir!" and Jonny scampered back up the stairs.  
  
Harm made his way into the utility room and began moving items from the washer to the dryer: three bright red shirts, three bright red pairs of shorts, and six very long bright red socks. The washer still wasn't empty. Harm looked in. He couldn't imagine any self-respecting boy wearing anything that color. He reached in and grabbed the next piece of clothing. The fabric had a distinct feel. It couldn't be. They wouldn't. But it was. And they had. It was his uniform shirt. His summer whites uniform shirt. Only now it wasn't white. It was pink -- a decidedly bright pink at that.  
  
Harm glanced at his watch. It wasn't too late. He dialed the number.  
  
*****  
  
FRIDAY EVENING (SAME TIME)  
  
0400 ZULU (1900 LOCAL)  
  
BURNETT RESIDENCE  
  
LA JOLLA, CALIFORNIA  
  
The phone rang. One more Tele-marketer and Frank would not be responsible for his actions.  
  
"Hello."  
  
"Hi Frank."  
  
"Harm are you okay? Let me get your mother."  
  
"No Frank everything fine. I wanted to talk to you."  
  
Frank gulped. Harm NEVER wanted to talk to him. Trish came over and caressed his arm, concern written on her face.  
  
"I'm here son. What do you need?" Frank asked gently, praying his stepson hadn't - well there was no guessing what kind of trouble Harm could find. 'Please God give me strength.' He gently squeezed Trish's hand. Whatever it was he'd find a way to make it right.  
  
"I don't need anything. I just, uh," Harm was at a loss for words. Great big hotshot lawyer couldn't figure out what say to the man who had stepped in and helped mold him into the man he had become. "Frank?"  
  
"Yes Harm," Frank sat down. He was really getting worried now.  
  
"I just wanted to say thank you," Harm almost whispered the words.  
  
"For what, Son?"  
  
"For not drop-kicking me to the Aleutians when you had the chance."  
  
"You're welcome. I think?"   
  
"I was a real pain in the six as a kid, wasn't I?"  
  
Frank was totally bewildered now. "All twelve-year-olds are difficult."  
  
"You can say that again."  
  
"What brought this on?"  
  
"I'm getting some first hand experience," Harm groaned. He then proceeded to tell Frank all about the last twenty-three hours. "I'm going to be a terrible father," Harm admitted brokenly. "I guess I should call Mac and let her know. After all she's going to want to find someone else to..." Harm's mouth snapped shut. That was more information than any parent needed to know about their son, even their stepson.  
  
Frank tried very hard to keep the laughter from his voice. He wasn't sure exactly where Harm and Mac's relationship was at, but they were obviously on the right track. Maybe Trish would finally get to buy those tiny little baby shoes she kept dragging him to see. "Harm, you don't teach people to swim by throwing them in the deep end of the pool."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I had your mother to help me through."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Harm, when you have your own kids, they start out small. You grow as a parent as your child grows. And usually they come one at a time." Frank couldn't control himself any longer. He chuckled. The look on Trish's face was priceless. She was only hearing Frank's side of the conversation and she was getting some pretty strange ideas of her own. He looked at his wife and winked. "If you want my advice, call Mac and ask for her help."  
  
"Well, I kind of put my foot in my mouth. I told her this would be a piece of cake."  
  
"Uh oh. Sounds like you put more than your foot in your mouth." Frank was trying very hard not to laugh again.   
  
"Yeah, my leg. Right up to the knee," Harm moaned.  
  
"I'm sure if you ask nicely it won't be too bad."  
  
"Are you sure I should call her? She's really going to rub my nose in it."  
  
Frank just smiled and shook his head. His stepson could be thick as a brick where that marine was concerned. "I'm positive."  
  
"Okay," Harm sounded as if he was going to have his teeth pulled. "And Pop," as much as he wanted to, Harm just couldn't bring himself to call Frank dad. "Thank you. Not just for the advice... but... well... for everything."  
  
Frank couldn't believe what he just heard. Harm never called him anything but Frank. "You're welcome Son." He just held on to the phone after Harm hung up. There were tears in his eyes. He didn't want to break the connection he'd being trying to make for nearly thirty years.   
  
"Frank?"  
  
"He called me Pop," Frank whispered so softly that Trish didn't hear. Shaking himself he looked back at Trish. "I'll make arrangements to get us to DC tomorrow."  
  
"Is Harm okay?" Trish was trying to be brave, but her lower lip began to tremble. Frank only planned trips to DC when Harm was in trouble. Every nightmare that the mother of a naval aviator could have flashed through her mind. Unfortunately she had experienced many of them with Harm. And the mention of children... 'Please God not that Renee person...' But Frank wouldn't tell Harm to bring Mac into that... And he wouldn't laugh. Now she was just totally confused.  
  
"Everything's perfect Honey," Frank said as leaned over and kissed his wife. "Harm is just finding out that he can't do everything by himself. Sometimes he has to ask for help." The laughter that Frank was holding in finally worked its way out. "And our son can use all the help he can get."  
  
"Our son." Now that had a nice sound to it.  
  
FINIS - Chapter 1  
  
Chapter 2 coming soon 


End file.
